Mates

Mates

We meet in the fires of conjunction; me speaking of
The River Tribe and the bigotry and violence

They suffered on the banks of the Takaka River
& you, proclaiming Kōtuku, your bird and mine

& our friendship; forged in the fervour of Kōtuku,
Never, never wavered; even when I fronted you

About conspiracy theories, and the way they consumed you
& I told you, my serpent nature could never stomach them

& we faced off; me, with my tiny snake tongue, flick, flicking
’til love gate-crashed the shack and we became mates

& you took me out the back to the old twisted pine
Where Kōtuku surveys the tide, with its feast

Of tiny fish, & you spoke of how, morning by morning
You connect with the birds, and how you feel them

Bird by bird, linking in, with you, and Te Waikoropupū
In our world where Kōtuku stays, eternally true

~
‘We meet:’ based on my first meeting with my friend Trevor Koberstein and our first disagreement.

 ‘The fires of conjunction:’ the fires of coming together.

‘The River Tribe:’ a spontaneous and constantly evolving community of mostly international travellers who gathered spontaneously in the trees beside the Takaka River in the summer of 2016/17

 ‘Kōtuku:’ the white heron; who in Maori mythology is ‘the rare one’ and ‘spirit messenger.’ The kōtuku is also a symbol of the Self, the transcendent centre of the human psyche.